The Escape
by Imogen74
Summary: Set during the events surrounding Margery's and Joffrey's wedding, Tyrion is the one who arranges Sansa's escape from King's Landing. One shot. For JaninaM8's birthday!
It had always been a dream of hers to live as a proper princess, not stowed away in the North, where the air was never sweet.

The Capital was not what she had dreamed it would be. It had rather been like a nightmare.

And everyone was dead.

And she was married to a dwarf.

"Pardon me, m'lady…"

Sansa sighed, closed her eyes, and turned. "Excuse me, m'lord…I am wanting solitude."

"Sansa, please call me Tyrion."

She didn't want to call him Tyrion. She wanted to leave. Or die. Anything but stay here. "Yes, Tyrion," she smiled slightly.

"Good. Now, would you please walk with me a bit? I have news for you that I believe you'll appreciate."

Her chin lifted, and she began to walk next to her husband. _Husband_.

Tyrion looked up at his lovely wife. She was solemn…well. How could she not be? She had lost everyone. Almost. "Now, what I am about to tell you must be kept perfectly secret. I know that I can trust you, is that not so?"

"Of course, m'lor….Tyrion."

"I thought as much. You are respectable and a Lady."

Sansa nodded, but as she did so, Tyrion grabbed her hand and led her into a dark garden off the main one…she looked behind her, and all sorts of thoughts emerged from her mind…she was going to be killed. Raped…(could a husband rape his wife? she doubted it.) Her heart was in her throat.

It was dim in the garden, low hanging trees were spread liberally throughout. Her mind continued to race…"Please, where are we going?" she hissed.

He stopped, then looked around. "This should do."

Sansa failed to see how this spot was any different than any other in the vast place.

"You wish to leave?" he whispered.

A thousand thoughts filled her mind. Why was he asking her this? For a reason to have Joffrey separate her head from her body? For a reason to land her in the dungeons? "No…my…Tyrion," she stammered. "I love it…"

"Sansa stop playing games with me. I know that you despise it here almost as much as I do. But I have not lost what you have lost," his gaze fell, at least she believed it did. It was difficult to see in the dim. "I have had word from The Night's Watch."

"The Night's Watch?"

"Yes. And your half brother is in the harbor this instant on a ship to take you away."

Sansa's heart leapt. Jon was here? How? "But how is this possible?"

"Best not to ask questions, wife. At some point during the wedding tomorrow, a person will lead you away from the festivities, and to Jon's ship. And that will be that. I ask only that you be discreet, you hurry, and you do not mention my part in this."

"What is your part, Tyrion?"

He cleared his throat slightly. "Let's just say that I had a hand in it," he turned away from her. "Sansa?"

She was smiling so much that she could hardly answer. "Yes?"

"I wouldn't be so sure that he is your brother at all," and he left the garden.

She was left there feeling simultaneously confused and elated.

During the wedding between Margery and Joffrey, Sansa sat as still as possible. She hardly breathed. She would be leaving this day! She would be free!

She would be seeing Jon…

* * *

During the feast following, she picked at her food. She began to wonder what Tyrion meant about Jon not being her brother. True, he was a bastard, but that did not mean that they weren't brother and sister. She had never paid much attention to him, he was too busy dueling in the square to care about him at all.

Arya was close with Jon. They would laugh all the time together…

Sansa thought about Arya, about Rob…her eyes welled.

"It appears as though your wife is sad, Uncle!" yelled the King. "You should see to that. I had heard that you were an experienced lover. Judging by your wife's look, I'd say you need some practice," and he laughed.

Sansa felt Tyrion's hand on hers. She was not nearly as mortified as she imagined him to be at that moment. She swallowed, and squeezed his hand.

It astounded her that he had not taken her virtue yet…and Sansa thought that she must repay him for his kindness…even if Tyrion had an ulterior motive, he had been kind to her, constantly.

She vowed to repay him somehow, as she held his hand on the table.

"Uncle, I am thirsty. I think that I should assign you another job, since you are lacking in the bedroom. Come, be my cup boy!" and Joffrey stood, holding his cup for Tyrion to fill.

"Don't do it m'lord," Sansa hissed. Joffrey was so awful, she couldn't bear to see him humiliate yet another person.

Tyrion looked at her and smiled.

And the scene which resulted was just as horrifying as she thought it would be. Her hatred for the King grew during those minutes as she watched.

…and then, it happened.

Joffrey collapsed.

And all was madness…

Sansa stood, looking at her husband, gasping for breath…

"Come, m'lady," and a hand touched her elbow.

Sansa looked, and a hooded figure was leading her away from the fray.

Had Tyrion just poisoned the King? Would she be considered an accomplice?

They hurried down the stone steps of the Red Keep…Sansa barely keeping her footing…down down they went…

A tiny dingy sat waiting for them.

"Climb in, and hurry," he hissed at her.

Sansa swallowed, and pulled her skirts up. This wasn't how she expected this to go. But then, nothing ever seemed to go as she expected.

They rowed through the thick fog of the blackwater…odd how dark it was here, despite it being but suppertime. Sansa saw a ship emerging through the thick air…and she smiled.

She climbed the rope ladder to the top, and there was Jon Snow, smiling down at her.

He helped her over the edge, and she fell into his arms, weeping.

"Was it very awful, Sansa?" he whispered in her hair.

She clung to his coat, shivering and shaking. "Worse," she replied.

"Well, I cannot promise that things will never be bad. But I'm here now, we are together," he pulled away and touched her cheek. "Arya is down below," he smiled.

"Arya?" she couldn't believe it.

"That's right. And I believe that Rickon and Bran are North. That is where we are heading. We are going to get our brothers back and rebuild Winterfell."

Sansa was lighter than she had been in years. She nodded.

"I expect you're hungry?" and he waved at some people, and the ship began to move.

"Not at all, Jon. I'm exhausted."

"Then allow me to show you to your room," and he took her hand.

They descended to the lower decks, and Jon opened a small door. "It's not anything you'd have at the Red Keep, but it's soft," he shrugged.

"It's wonderful," and she went to the bed and sat.

Jon nodded. "Get some rest, Sansa."

"Jon!" she called as he was leaving. "How did all of this happen?"

He smiled at her. "Tomorrow. I'll tell you everything tomorrow.

Sansa's gaze lowered and she nodded as the door clicked shut.

She had waited so very long, she supposed that she could wait twelve hours.

…and her thoughts went to King's Landing, and to Tyrion, and how she hoped that they didn't execute him.

Sansa took her gown off and laid down, and just before she fell into deep slumber, she thought about how handsome Jon was, and that he would make a proper husband for someone some day.

She ignored the question Tyrion had planted in her brain, and closed her eyes for a peaceful rest, at last.


End file.
